


Need

by magickmoons



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Diners, FandomWritingChallenege, First Time, Light BDSM, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 03:34:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9951587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magickmoons/pseuds/magickmoons
Summary: Dean asks Cas to join him when he's on his own one night and finds out that Cas can offer him a lot more than just some companionship at a diner -- something he could barely admit to himself that he wanted.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for February's [fandomwritingchallenge](https://fandomwritingchallenge.tumblr.com/) on tumblr. The month's theme was Food and Drink; my prompt was Diner.
> 
> Also - I think you'll all recognize the line that's not mine ;)
> 
> * * *

The diner was all but deserted, late enough that the dinner rush had trickled out, early enough that the late shift wasn't looking for a midnight snack just yet. It was just Dean, the waitress whose name tag was so worn it couldn't be read, presumably a cook in the back, and that one old guy who'd been hunkered down in the corner booth almost every time Dean had come in. Probably homeless -- Dean knew the look; definitely alone in the world.

The waitress refilled his coffee without a word, his 'Thanks' not even getting a perfunctory smile in return. He pushed his fries aimlessly around his plate and checked his phone again. No calls, no texts. So either Sammy hadn't found anything, or he was caught up in geek research heaven. It was probably too much to hope that the kid had found himself someone to warm his bed for the night.

Any way Dean sliced it, Sam was still two towns over, where the action was likely to be, while Dean was sitting here, twiddling his thumbs and waiting.

Bored.

"Hey, Cas, I don't know if you're hearing this. It's not, y'know, urgent, but if you've got some free time --"

Castiel appeared next to the table. Dean looked around quickly to see if the other two had noticed the sudden appearance of a slightly rumpled Angel of the Lord. They hadn't.

"What's wrong, Dean?" He looked at the empty space across from Dean. "Has something happened to Sam?"

"What? No. Sam's a few towns over. Looks like we got two ghosts who are continuing the feud that got them killed from beyond the grave. But that's not... I said it wasn't urgent."

"Why did you call me, Dean?" Cas remained standing by the table, his expression growing increasingly confused.

"Yeah, no. You know what, never mind." He stood and moved to push past Castiel, but was stopped by the iron vice of Cas' hand on his wrist. Dean glanced down at the loose grip and barely suppressed a shiver. Cas was barely trying; his strength was just ... well, angelic.

Cas squinted at him with a glimmer of understanding. "You asked me here, socially?"

Dean snatched his wrist back. "Yeah, don't worry about it. Figures you got better things to do than hang out with me at some shitty diner. You don't even eat."

"Sit down, Dean." Cas stared at him until Dean took his seat again, then slid into the opposite side of the booth. "I do not have anything better to do than to hang out with you at some shitty diner."

"What, really?" Dean hadn't actually thought that Cas would answer so quickly, much less hang out. He was scrambling to figure out what to talk about. Meanwhile, across the table, Cas seemed perfectly content to just stare at him. Or maybe just to the side of him.

Dean added some cream to his coffee and stirred it slowly, watching the swirl of color slowly spread. He looked back up to find Castiel in the same position. The angel's eyes focused on him.

"I am surprised that you are not taking advantage of Sam's absence to 'pick up' a man or woman for the evening," he said blandly.

Once again, Dean's head pivoted, surveying the restaurant. "Cas," he hissed.

Cas' brow furrowed, and he too obviously leaned out of his seat to look around as well. Seeing no threat, he centered once more. "I merely meant that given your circumstances, I thought that you would prefer companionship of a sexual nature rather than... rather than me."

Dean swallowed roughly. Feeling Cas' steady gaze, hearing his voice talk about sex -- about Dean and sex -- was causing some very unwelcome and distracting responses throughout his body. He shifted a little, stretched out a leg. And wasn't he upset about something?

"What do you mean a  _ man _ or woman?" He automatically lowered his voice, at the same time he tried to pull on his macho exterior -- Dean Winchester, Ladies' Man -- but it didn't fit right now.

"Dean, I am aware that you are attracted to both. You have acted on your desires in the past. If you are concerned about the religious taboo, it was entirely constructed by man; I assure you, God is utterly indifferent to sexual orientation."

"No, man. There's just some things you don't go around saying. Especially not in places like this."

Cas looked around with interest. "What is so special about this diner?"

Dean dropped his head, shaking it. "It's not the... physical location Cas. Small towns, deep south -- it just can be a bad place to get outed." Dean grabbed his coffee and took a sip just to have something to occupy his attention other than Cas' look of sudden comprehension. Figured he'd get intuitive now.

But all he said was, "I'm sorry, Dean. I will try to be more aware of our surroundings."

Now that his initial panic had subsided -- and he was relatively sure he wasn't going to be walking out into a gang of rednecks itching to teach him a lesson -- the other implications of Cas' statement filtered in.

"Wait, you know? About... How long have you known?"

"When I rescued you from Hell, I rebuilt you. I had to learn what makes you."

"You never said anything."

"It wasn't relevant at the time."

Dean's mind was processing quickly -- almost like a threat assessment in a fight -- trying to come to grips with the fact that Cas apparently knew all of secrets, at least those he'd had since before Hell. Dean absently rubbed at his wrist. That was still a whole movie's worth of stuff he'd rather no one know.

Castiel's eyes dropped Dean's hands, and Dean stilled his movement.

"I have never understood why you hide these parts of yourself, Dean. From Sam, from me..."

Dean almost choked on a bitter laugh. For a second, all he could see were his father's eyes, angry, disgusted, tossing a first-aid kit at him, coldly telling him to 'get the hell over this phase, Dean, because I'm not gonna save your ass next time.' Just the memory made his stomach clench. I it wasn't something he was looking to repeat, even if the rational part of his brain told him that Sam was probably different. As for Cas, well he had some damn good reason to keep it from him, reasons assuming that he didn't know if the first damn place.

But Cas only knew things from before Hell, before they'd met, so the most valuable secret was probably still safe. Although, if he didn't get away from Cas with his eyes and hands, and that voice talking about Dean's desires, the cat was going to escape the bag -- in a pretty spectacular fashion.

He threw a couple of bills down on the table and stood. "Well, it's been nice deconstructing my psyche and all, but I think I'll call it a night.

"Dean." Cas stood, positioned well inside that personal space bubble that Dean had long ago given up on pushing him out of. He leaned in close enough that Dean could smell the faint whiff of ozone that he'd learned to associate with Cas' teleportation. "You are safe with me."

Cas' hand closed around Dean's wrist again, oh so slowly, giving Dean plenty of time to back away, to sit down, to react however he wanted. The pressure was greater this time. He could feel Cas' fingers flex and adjust and tighten. Cas looked down to where he held Dean, then back up, a question in his eyes. Dean's breathing stuttered as he stared at the angel. He slowly nodded.

Cas' thumb brushed along the soft skin inside Dean's wrist, before he let go and strode out of the diner without another word. Dean followed, his skin buzzing in anticipation. The ride back to the motel was short, the air heavy and charged between the two of them.

A very small part of Dean kept trying to convince himself that this was A Bad Idea. But the rest of Dean reveled in the chance to finally get what he wanted, and he would deal with the fallout in the morning. It had been too long since he'd even skirted the edge of submission; there was no way he was giving a one night stand that kind of power. And he never developed the type of long-term relationships that... well, any type of long-term relationship.

Beside him, Cas sat as implacable as ever, the only sign that this wasn't an ordinary ride his hand resting on Dean's thigh as he drove, heavy and warm.

Dean's heart was pounding as he parked in front of his room. Cas silently followed him in. The door shut loudly. Dean turned to talk to him, uncertain how this would go. How did one start a BDSM scene anyway? Before he could say anything, Cas' hands were on his shoulders, the room whirled around him, and his back was pressed against the door. Blue eyes bored into his. Hot breath panted against his lips.

Dean swallowed, pushed a little against the pressure Cas was exerting. There was no give. This time, he didn't bother to suppress his shudder of delight. Want and need and arousal ran hot along his skin.

"Cas," he pleaded, unable to completely verbalize what he needed, but god he needed. Over a decade of satisfying his desire with meager fantasy, the occassional internet porn, years of watching Cas and wondering what that strength would feel like... His mind whirled restlessly, counting the ways this could go wrong, but he was utterly committed here. To get this close and turn away was unthinkable.

Cas ran his hands down Dean's arms, never letting up the pressure, to tangle their fingers together. Dean dropped his head back, closed his eyes as Cas lifted their joined hands, pinning Dean's arms above his head.

He leaned in. "Do you trust me, Dean?"

"Yes." He'd barely breathed out the answer before Cas' lips were on his. The kiss was hard and demanding, and Dean got lost in the sensations of Cas' tongue and teeth parting his lips, exploring his mouth, owning him. He started when he a hand hiking up his t-shirt; at some point, Cas had captured both of Dean's wrists in one hand, freeing the other to thumb roughly at a nipple, to move down and flick open the button on Dean's jeans and tease the zipper open slowly, careful not to touch Dean's cock, awake and straining against the thin fabric of his boxers. All the while he continued his assault on Dean's mouth and jaw. Dean groaned raggedly, hips rutting desperately against empty air, when Cas' mouth closed firmly around the tendon near the base of his neck and sucked.

Then it all stopped. Panting, Dean opened his eyes. Cas had stepped back, still less than an arm's length away.

"Stay."

A single word, a single command, and Dean froze in place, his arms resting against the peeling paint of the door, his jeans open and sagging on his hips. Cas stood and watched him, his eyes roving all over, delighted and needy, like Dean was a breakfast buffet and he couldn't decide what to enjoy first.

The urge to move, to cover and protect, to take back control was so strong. Muscle memory fought his brain, but the longer he stood there in front of Cas, the more embarrassment turned back to arousal. His cock twitched, still uncomfortably half trapped under denim.

"Good," Cas practically purred. He stepped back in, lifted Dean's shirt up and over his head. The feel of the cloth sliding along his skin left a trail of goosebumps. "Very good," Cas whispered before he leaned down and covered one of Dean's nipples with his mouth. The heat of Cas' tongue swiping across his already sensitive skin had Dean panting, instinctively arching his back to push further into the sensation. Cas' hands were busy too, gently sliding Dean's jeans and boxers over his hips, letting them fall to the floor. Then Cas' fingers closed around his other nipple, a gentle pinch that grew steadily more intense as Cas' teeth and tongue continued to work the other.

Dean was dimly aware that he was moaning, gasping whenever the pressure changed, that maybe he should be more restrained with the sounds he was making, but he couldn't stop. Especially not when Cas switched sides, and fingers rubbed and pinched the already over-sensitive nipple, while Cas' tongue swiped soothing strokes across sore, abused flesh. His hips were rolling against the air; Cas was being very careful to keep space between them, which was good because Dean would have already come if there'd been the slightest pressure against him. And he didn't want this to end. Not yet.

Dean whined when Cas stepped back yet again. This time, the angel looked decidedly more disheveled, his lips shiny with spit, his cheeks flushed pink. "Bed, now," he growled, his head jerking toward the queen-sized bed. Dean scrambled to obey, stumbling momentarily as his foot got caught in his jeans, but recovering quickly. 

"On your back," Cas added as he began stripping himself quickly, loosening his tie even before his trenchcoat hit the floor with a soft whumpf. The rest of his clothes followed, landing in a haphazard pile, except his tie, which Castiel held loosely as he stalked toward the bed, his eyes focused on Dean.

Dean's breath was caught in his chest as Cas approached. It was almost too much to take in all at once: the muscular body, the lascivious look in Cas' eye, his obvious -- and impressive -- arousal as he smoothly straddled Dean's chest. In one quick movement, he gathered Dean's hands together and started looping the tie around his wrists, and then through the thin slat of the headboard. It wasn't anywhere near strong enough to hold Dean if he really wanted to get away, but that wasn't going to be an issue tonight. Maybe next time, though...

Cas looked down at him, trailed his fingers along Dean's cheeks, his nose, his jaw.

"Open up."

Without a thought, Dean opened his mouth. Cas smiled, edged forward and rested the tip of his cock against Dean's bottom lip. It was hot against Dean's skin, and the scent was already driving him crazy -- earthy and musky and pure Cas.

He whined, desperate for more, trying to stay as still as he could. "Please," he whispered.

Cas' eyes darkened, and with one thrust, he was there and Dean was in heaven. The solid, warm weight against his tongue, stretching his lips. He moved his tongue, caressing the shaft, working spit around until he could move easily. The tangy, salty taste of precome was already spreading across his tongue. He groaned, and Cas echoed the sound when the vibrations surrounded his cock.

With a slow drag, Cas pulled back and pushed in again. Dean hollowed his cheeks, adding suction and pressure. His tongue curled around the head every chance he got, lapping up more and more precome, teasing the slit. Cas' hands were on his face, holding him at the precise angle Cas wanted, thumbs occasionally brushing across his cheeks.

Dean angled his gaze upward. Cas was watching, focused on his cock moving in and out of Dean's mouth. Dean closed his eyes, loosened his jaw even further and on the next thrust, he could feel the head of Cas' cock slip into his throat. A harsh groan sounded above him, and he could feel the tense shaking of Cas' thighs as he froze, panting, forcing his orgasm back.

"So good," he breathed. "You are so perfect, Dean." Then he was moving, and his cock was pressed against Dean's and Cas' tongue was in his mouth, and he was kissing and biting and stroking, still whispering endearments and encouragement.

The sudden pressure against Dean's previously neglected cock was heaven and hell. He pushed up against Cas' weight, automatically angling for the perfect pressure, the perfect motion to push him over. But it was going to make him come too soon, and he wanted more. He wanted to feel Cas inside him, wanted to make it good for Cas, wanted to come around his cock -- held down and out of control -- wanted so much, too much.

"I know, Dean. It's not too much, this is all for you. You're so good for me." Cas was chanting in his ear, and that soothing voice was so perfect that Dean would worry about being embarrassed about what he'd said later. Now, all his focus was on Cas' fingers slowly circling his hole -- and how Cas found the lube could be figured out later too -- gently pressing in. There was a slight burn, and then blissful pressure as his fingers slid in easily.

Dean twisted his hips, trying to move Cas to that perfect spot, but Cas pulled his fingers back just a bit and tsked in Dean's ear. "Stop moving." He bit Dean earlobe, tugging at it with his teeth, sending ripples of pleasure through him, shifting his focus as Cas' fingers resumed their task of stretching and loosening Dean. Dean let himself melt into the bed, let the feelings of arousal dance around him, chasing it would just make this over too soon, and he didn't want this to be over.

"That's right," Cas assured him. "So good."

He didn't know how long they stayed like that, Cas fingering him open, his mouth finding every hot spot along Dean's neck and upper chest, but by the time Cas removed his fingers, Dean was a quivering mess of arousal, his cock continuosly dribbling precome onto his belly, every nerve ending in his skin hyper aware and responsive.

His eyes were still closed, and he didn't bother to open them. Cas was moving around, the bed bouncing as his weight shifted, and then... Bliss. Cas slowly pushed inside Dean, stretching him open. Dean let out a long, low moan as Cas bottomed out inside him. Soft kisses peppered his face as Cas started to move in fluid thrusts. Dean angled his face to catch Cas' lips, licking and kissing, teasing Cas until finally the angel gave in with a grunt and was fucking Dean with his tongue and his cock, plunging deep and strong and fast.

Heat flooded Dean's body, along with a bone-deep satisfaction of that need he had tried so hard to deny. He knew now why he'd never tried. This, only this, could have met it. Cas was muttering something, the sounds captured in their joined mouths; Dean's arms strained, pulling at Cas' tie and the headboard, wanting to touch, to grab, to hold onto this forever.

He gasped as Cas shifted his angle of entry and there it was. Two more thrusts, a wooden crack, and all the tension, all the heat burst from Dean, flooded between them as he sobbed his orgasm against Cas' lips. Cas continued moving inside him, working him through it, coaxing an extra spasm or two from Dean.

"Dean," Cas whispered anxiously. "Dean, Dean, I ..."

"C'mon, Cas." Dean slipped his hands, freed from the headboard but still bound by Cas' tie over the angel's head, resting them on his neck. He wearily snapped his hips up to meet Cas' next thrust. He opened his eyes just in time to see Cas' eyes slip closed in ecstasy, as he felt Cas' release warm and deep inside him.

Cas lowered himself slowly to rest on top of Dean, and buried his face against Dean's neck, breathing heavily. They stayed that way for several minutes, before Dean shifted, urging Cas to roll to the side. He disentangled his arms, and Cas unbound his wrists, kissing the slightly reddened skin of each softly.

They should probably talk, Dean thought, even as much as he hated the idea. But he was so worn out, and so comfortable, lying on the bed, surrounded by Cas' arms and his scent, pleasantly achy, and he didn't want to ruin it. Talking was not what he was best at.

He tilted his head and brushed a kiss across Cas' lips. "Stay?" he asked quietly. "That breakfast menu at that diner looked like it had some pretty good grub."

Cas reached down to pull the sheet up over them. He rested his arm against Dean's back, pulling him closer. "Breakfast sounds wonderful." He smiled softly at Dean. "Now sleep. I will be here when you wake up."

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a realistic representation of safe, sane, consensual BDSM. In fiction, we can rely on our angel’s knowledge of us. In real-life, safewords and negotiation beforehand are so important. 
> 
> Also, feel free to come chat on [my tumblr](magickmoons.tumblr.com)!


End file.
